


The Weight of it All

by YashieNydoorin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bless beau, Emotions, F/F, Fluff, Mighty Nein as Family, Still Figuring This Out, baby's first fic, too many feelings, yasha needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22013725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YashieNydoorin/pseuds/YashieNydoorin
Summary: After the pit fights, the Mighty Nein visit a tavern for a night of hat drinking and frivolity but someone is not quite feeling in the spirit of drinking.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 6
Kudos: 114





	The Weight of it All

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my first ever fic and the first time I've written anything creative in well over 5 years so please be kind, I'm still figuring it all out. Any constructive criticism is welcome and I really hope you enjoy my deep love for the BeauYasha ship. Gotta start somewhere am I right?

Her vision was pulsing and shifting, darkness floating just out of the corners of her eyes. The frenzied dwarf trapped beneath her boot was writhing against her, wildly trying to escape the foot that pinned her against the bars, eyes filled with anger and confusion. WHACK; a blow beneath the knee sent her leg careening off of the dwarf. Yasha grabbed the front of the dwarf’s tunic and whispered “Finish it, champion”, her opponent’s eyes widening in a mish-mash of emotions. With a swing of clenched fists, the first blow going wide, the second connected with her cheek, a spray of blood and spittle leaving Yasha’s mouth as the force sent her falling backwards. As she felt the darkness beginning to sweep over her, a smile of relief came across her face. She was finally able to slip away from the raging emotions inside her head, escaping the harsh reality of the last few months.

The dark unconsciousness rapidly beginning to envelop her like a blanket, comfortably warm and quiet, empty of all thought and feeling.

She let it embrace and take her.

“Yash, are you okay?” A voice cuts through her thoughts, breaking through the white noise of the tavern. Beau’s concerned face peered down at her as she sits alone in a booth

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine”

“You looked a thousand years away, what’s on your mind, do you wanna-?”

“It’s nothing, just leave it alone” she shot back, cutting Beau off with a snarl.

Beau raised her arms above her head in a defensive shrug and backed away, returning to the bar where the rest of her friends were currently drinking. She surveyed the tavern around her. There weren’t too many patrons within at this hour, small groups and individuals scattered around the spacious interior. Her attention turned towards the group at the bar, adorned in the new hats that had been stolen by Nott. Jester was deeply involved in an animated conversation with Nott, her hands gesticulating wildly as she regaled the small goblin with some sort of tale. Fjord and Caduceus were huddled close together, speaking to each other with relaxed looks on their faces. They were probably talking about the Wildmother or something, Yasha thought to herself. Caleb was sitting quietly to the side of the party with Frumpkin curled up in his lap, his hands idly petting the familiar’s ruddy fur. He smiled to himself as he watched over Nott and Jester, whose story was becoming more and more exuberant. He took a sip from his tankard and gazed over to where Yasha was sitting before silently raising his tankard in her direction with a nod, a subtle gesture of solidarity. She raised her near-empty drink and nodded back, proceeding to shot-gun the last of the ale. Her eyes drifted to Beau, who had now returned to the group, where she had casually slung her arm around Jester’s shoulder. There was a lazy smile on her face as she listened to the excited chatter of her companions, her expression occasionally breaking into peals of beautiful laughter. Through the dull buzz of alcohol in her system, Yasha felt a pang of loneliness and guilt in her chest. She felt out of place within the group now, her absence and betrayal at the hands of Obann had definitely left an unspoken scar on their dynamic. The air in the tavern had a sudden oppressiveness at the thought of her previous captor;

She was suffocating.

She needed to escape

Pushing away from the table she stumbled a little as she stood up, the stiffness and pain of her aching muscles accompanied with the alcohol made her unsteady on her feet. She urged her feet forward and made a swift yet ungraceful exit from the tavern.

Stumbling into the chilly night air she left out a deep sigh, watching her breath form a small cloud in front of her. Not entirely sure of the way back to the shimmer ward or Kamaruth cottage Yasha decided to just wander and see where it took her. Her thoughts wandered as she did, thinking back on the last few days; the events of the cathedral, where Caduceus had broken Obann’s spell, and the voice that had haunted her for as long as she could remember, with its sickly sweet drawl that seemed to enrapture anyone who heard it, disappearing from her head. An mess of feelings swelled in her chest; anger, relief, nausea, guilt, loneliness and misery all swirling around. She swallowed deeply as acid rose in her throat and pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind.

She passed through the deserted streets in the quiet of the late night, casually peering into storefronts as she wandered. She caught sight of her reflection in the glass of one darkened shop; two angry red sets of nail wounds tore their way down her cheeks. The large split on her forehead had healed to a tentative close thanks to the medic’s healing post battle and there were still residual smudges of dried blood on her forehead that had not been scrubbed away when she tidied herself up. There were the beginning signs of a deep purple bruise forming beneath her right eye and a little bit of swelling that pushed the bottom lid slightly closed.

“Now the outside matches the inside” she muttered to herself, moving away from the glass to continue down the street. She meandered for what felt like ages, passing a few inebriated townsfolk stumbling home to their lives, yet nothing in her surroundings looked familiar. In the dim glow of the ever-burning streetlights Yasha spotted a splash of green surrounded by a low wrought iron fence. Tree branches hung lazily out into the street from this seeming paradise within the heart of Rexxentrum, leaves rustling gently in the night air. Scanning for any crowns guard, she made her way towards the park, quietly hopping the low fence into the awaiting grove.

Taking in a deep breath, she allowed the scents of the damp night air and vegetation to fill her lungs, invigorating her aching soul just a little. The scents of night jasmine, humus and grass hung in the air as a sense of relaxation settled over her. Finding the base of a large tree, she stiffly eased herself down to lean against the trunk and closed her eyes. Zuala would have loved this place, she thought.

Zuala.

Her love, her whole life.

It felt like an eternity since she had left her home. In the darkness she tried to remember her face, her eyes, her smile, each of the lines that made their way across her complexion, the way the sunset lit up her hair in its liquid gold rays. But she couldn’t quite get a clear picture, like the memory was slightly out-of-focus, lines blurred, details missing and unclear. Shame washed over her in a cold wave. Had she really begun to forget the face of her beloved? She let out a cry of anguish and disappointment as those feelings inside her bubbled up and welled over, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks.

“WHY ARE YOU SUCH A FUCK UP?!” She screamed, piercing the quiet night air as sobs began to wrack her chest. She almost hoped the crowns guard would hear her and arrest her; any punishment for her sins was deserved. She’d hurt all of her friends, nearly killing two of them. There was no way in the world Fjord would ever be able to trust her again after the events within the King’s Cage. She didn’t deserve his trust or friendship after everything she had done. And Beau. The Beau she had begun to fall for, had begun to let down her walls for. The image of her bloodied body beneath Yasha flashed across her eyes, Skingorger buried deep within her chest. The image made her stomach heave and roil with nausea, her ale threatening to make a reappearance yet again. Beau would never be able to look at her in same way as before. She gasped between sobs, unable to catch her breath. A low rumble of thunder crackled in the distance as the air begun to become laden with the scent of ozone and coming rain. A shadow crossed her periphery as a figure entered the park. Yasha’s muscles involuntarily tensed up at the threat of the unknown stranger, her hand flashing towards the sheath slung haphazardly over her back. In the dull glow of the streetlight, the figure emerged from the dark underbrush, the blues of her vestiges illuminated in the dark.

“Yasha? Is that you?” Beau’s voice rang out through the park. Yasha held her breath and tried to suppress her sobs, scrubbing futilely at her face to hide the evidence of her tears.

“Yeah Beau, I’m under the tree”

“Are you hurt? I heard screaming”

“I’m fine” She choked, wanting to laugh at how stupid she sounded. Beau’s eyes shone in the dark, the deep blues piercing through the depths of Yasha’s soul. Her face was made of angles, the sharp cut of her jaw and brow accented by the shadows thrown in the streetlight. She was beautiful, like a sculpture chiselled from stone. She padded her way quietly over to where Yasha was pressed against the tree and sat down next to her, a comfortable distance apart. Yasha could feel a warmth radiating from her skin in the gap between them. There was a prolonged silence between the two women before Beau finally spoke up.

“How’s your head? Cal gave you quite the hit back there”

“It’s okay. Just need to sleep it off”

“We were worried when you disappeared from the tavern, Jester was practically beside herself”

“Ah. I’ll have to apologise to her” Yasha muttered. Beau looked over at her, eyes filled with something that she couldn’t quite read.

“That smile you had on your face, when you went down, that was uhh, kinda scary. It’s a little concerning, ya know”

“Don’t worry about it too much”

“That’s the thing, I do worry about it. You’ve been so isolated since you came back to us”

“Why would you guys want me around? I-“ she paused, taking in a shaking breath “-did such unspeakable things”

“That wasn’t you thou-“

“Wasn’t it, Beau!?” Yasha cut her off, her whole body shaking with anger and sorrow.

“It was _my_ ritual that brought _him_ back, _my_ hand that killed all those archivists _, my_ actions that led to Fjord nearly dying and-“ she trailed off as her voice caught in her throat, falling to barely a whisper, her chin hitting her chest in shame.

“- _I_ put the sword through your chest”

Beau suddenly rose from beside her, moving quickly in front of her and dropping down to her knees. She slammed her hands down onto Yasha’s shoulders with such a force that she jumped at the sudden touch.

“ _Yasha look at me_ ” Her voice held a note of severity as her hands clamped onto the barbarians shoulders. Beau’s hands looked almost impossibly small compared to Yasha’s broad shoulders, those shoulders that seemed to carry the weight of the world. Yasha slowly lifted her head, dark hair falling away from her face. Beau’s eyes held a fierce intensity that seemed to make them glow in the darkness. It almost made Yasha feel small.

“Yasha that wasn’t _fucking_ you” Beau spat, venom on her tongue.

“He had his filthy claws buried so deep in your mind, there was nothing you could do. No amount of regret or guilt will change the things that have been said and done. We just have to live with what happened, make amends and move on.” Yasha could feel Beau’s hands trembling slightly on her shoulders. Her face was contorted with resentment and twinges of remorse. Beau was so passionate and firm in her belief, Yasha knew she didn’t deserve her kindness. Her lower lip begun to quiver again as silent tears slid down her face, stinging as they hit the claw marks. Beau’s face instantly softened, the tight grip on her shoulders loosening. She lifted her hands to Yasha’s face and cupped her cheeks tenderly, her thumbs swiping at the falling tears, carefully avoiding the deep scratches.

“Come on Yash, there’s no need for more tears. What matters now is you’ve come back to us. We’ll figure out what comes next when we get there. We’re all here for you.” Beau’s hands dropped from Yasha’s face as she rose from her knees. She held them outstretched for Yasha and gently pulled the other woman to her feet with surprising strength. Yasha’s shoulders shook silently as she stood there, tears continuing to stream down her face, eyes cast down towards the ground.

“I’m kinda bad at this whole comfort thing, huh” Beau said in a hushed voice. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Yasha’s waist, enveloping her in a slightly awkward hug. Warmth spread across Yasha’s torso in a way that made her shudder. Beau’s body pressed against hers was comforting and warm and a much needed reprieve from the cold night air. Yasha tentatively wrapped her arms around Beau’s shoulders, burying her face into the fabric of her vestiges. She inhaled a shaky breath, taking in the smell of Beau and relaxing just a little. They stayed like this till Yasha’s tears had dried and her sobs had quieted. When they finally broke apart, Beau looked up at her, a light flush across her complexion.

“The others were gonna head on back to the cottage, I told them we would meet them back there. Do you feel up to going back yet?” Beau’s voice was gentle, save for a hint of fatigue.

“Yeah, I think I am alright now. I’m sorry Beau, thank you- for everything” her voice was small, but a weight had been lifted from her heart. Beau slipped her hand into Yasha’s.

“My pleasure, Yash.”


End file.
